An Unlikely Reliance
by HerUnwrittenStories
Summary: SSA Aaron Hotchner needs Emily Prentiss' help with a personal matter. How will the pair cope in amongst a sensitive issue, an intense new case, and bubbling chemistry?
1. Chapter 1 - A Wiseman Never Begs

**Hello, love bugs. Basically this story will be split into several chapters, some of which are already/partly written thanks to my wonderful co-writer. For now it shall be rated T due to sensitive issues, yet later it may develop into M. **

**Just to clarify that this IS a Hotch/Prentiss pairing, but Strauss will be involved a lot as she is their reason for spending so much time in one another's company. This story has been planned and thought through by two passionate writers and we hope you enjoy it.**

**Feedback is much appreciated! ~ C (and M)**

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"This is the first, and the last time I will beg for your help. Prentiss..."

The ever in control and dominant unit chief was pleading with his brunette subordinate - something he very rarely subjected himself to. Even his emotionless mask had slipped, and his dark eyes were wide and open, as though showing his very soul to her. He stood close enough to touch her, perhaps even close enough to make her uncomfortable. But she wasn't uncomfortable: if anything, his closeness was encouraging her to agree with his plea more than his words were.

"Prentiss, please." His voice strained as he tried to catch and hold the woman's defiant gaze, "I am desperate."

She knew as well as anyone who knew Hotch that those three words must have wounded his pride beyond effective repair, and she almost caved in because of it. She didn't particularly enjoy seeing her boss break in front of her. Yet her infamous stubbornness prevented her from giving in, and despite the overwhelming urge to help the man in his impossible quest, she forced herself to face reality.

"No. No, I'm sorry, Hotch. That's my final answer. I don't understand why you're so set upon doing this...for her of all people! I know you're only human, and that you want to help everyone in any way possible, but you _can't_, Hotch. With all due respect, there is nothing you can do. This is out of our hands."

Now Emily was the one pleading; pleading for him to let it go; pleading for him to take a step back and do his own job and let the professionals do theirs. Why did he always have to be the hero? He had enough weight on his shoulders and he was in no state to take on anyone else's problems, contrary to his belief. But Hotch wasn't listening to her.

"Prentiss, what she needs is _help_. Not humiliation, or publicity...but help. And she needs that help from people she knows and trusts. I would do the same for you, for Morgan, for Reid...for anyone on the team. I would like to know you would do it for me too. Because we are a team, and like you always remind me, a family. Strauss included."

She knew he wouldn't budge; this woman was important to him, God knew why after the lengths she went to to sabotage his career...but she just was. And anything important to Hotch was important to Emily. Her jaw ticked impatiently. The woman was poison, as far as Emily was concerned, and she would never forget the hell that woman put her through. She blackmailed her, bullied her, persuaded her into destroying Hotch. She called her reckless. She _used_ her. Like a useless pawn in a chess game needed only for a quick couple of seconds to save her own ass. Emily hated no one, but section chief Erin Strauss had a special reservation in her imaginary burn book.

"She wouldn't do it for any of us, Hotch." Emily spoke quietly, desperate for him to hear her out and see sense. "She would have had us fired - ran our names into the mud and make sure to tarnish our reputation while she laughed gleefully as our worlds crumbled around us."

"She isn't that bad, Prentiss."

"Yes, she is. Hotch, you're blinded by-"

"You don't know her."

"I know enough."

"No. You know what you see. You know your section chief Strauss, obsessed with protocol and rules. You see the woman so dedicated to her job that she investigates the slightest sign of incompetence with brutality and determination. What you don't see, Prentiss, is Erin. Just Erin. The mother whose children cannot spare her a moment of their time. Whose children are her world, yet fail to see that. Who is torn apart because she feels incompetent as a mother. Who feels her children hate her because she failed them, which only makes her hate herself even more as a result. You see a bitter, spiteful old woman who wants to watch the world burn. But this is more than that - _she_ is more than that. She is vulnerable, and she has no one to turn to. If we don't do something now, Prentiss, she will spiral out of control and we would lose her. And while that idea may not sound too bad to you, that's three kids losing a mother before they had the chance to make things right between them."

Emily suddenly realised why Hotch was so passionate about this. He was a parent. A parent who lived in constant fear that his child would resent him for the rest of his life and blame him for everything that ever went wrong. A child that blamed him for everything they lost. In Erin, he saw himself struggling to balance a demanding job, grief, detachment, loss and parenthood. Only, Hotch had help. He had Jessica...he had the team.

Strauss had no one.

If that notion alone didn't tug at Emily's heart strings strongly enough to cause her to forget her intense dislike for the woman...nothing would.

And Emily Prentiss knew what it was like to feel alone.

She let out a long sigh, finally dropping her guard, her posture even drooping in defeat. He had won her with his words, but her gut still told her this was a bad idea...that she would regret helping such an ungrateful and selfish woman.

"Fine, but I'm only helping in the sense that I'll be on her back every minute of the day, and I'll try to find somewhere to privately section her in to. I stand by what I said earlier, Hotch: a huge part of this is out of our hands."

The anger was evident on her face and in her tone, and her eyes blazed with fury as she whirled around to face the door, back defiantly tuned to him. Why was she so weak? Why couldn't she say no to this man? What angered her most was that he _knew_ this; that she would do anything for him and his approval...that's why he had come to her.

"The least we can do is try." He confirmed, now taking several steps back until his hip touched the edge of the desk. "Thank you, Prentiss."

She didn't reply - she was far too angry to - and she left the room without another word, resisting the churlish urge to slam the door behind her. The second his office door clicked shut, he sagged in relief, a triumphant smile gracing his lips.

With Prentiss by his side, the entire process would be much easier.


	2. Chapter 2 - A Disastrous Confrontation

**Hello, lovelies. I'm thrilled to see several follows on this story and positive feedback. I'm glad some see potential in the story line! This story is being co-written, I focus mainly on Strauss and Emily's point of views and my writing partner focuses on Hotch. We feel we relate to these characters best and can write them as long as we are in the right mindset...therefore we apologise if chapters take several days/weeks to appear. **

**Keep favouriting/feedback-ing! Thank you, all.**

**~C**

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Erin Strauss was an alcoholic.

Her children knew it. Her friends knew it. Even her agents were catching onto it. The only person who didn't know it, was Strauss herself. Naturally, she was in denial; when questioned on her drinking habits, she would answer immediately with the same response. Like a broken record.

"I, like others, enjoy a drink every now and then."

But now and then became frequently, and eventually? Every day.

She knew fine well that Aaron Hotchner was on her case, but despite her irritation with his involvement, she had a strange sense of faith in him. She trusted him not to gossip around or speak ill of her. The pair struggled to see eye to eye the majority of the time, yet found that at the end of the day, they had a silent agreement: that they had one another's back.

That trust, however, was tested when Emily Prentiss suddenly barged into her office uninvited, hands resting firmly on her hips as she nodded towards the older woman in mock respect.

"Ma'am." She drawled, which gyrated on Erin's last nerve just as it always did. She was actually convinced that that her bold agent knew how much the sarcastic greeting got to her, and did it to deliberately rile her up.

"You think that addressing me politely will distract me from the fact that you rudely invited yourself into my office without my permission?" She asked sarcastically, immediately straightening her posture from where she sat behind her majestic mahogany desk. She regarded her agent with cold indifference, clasping her hands in front of her before a thin, blonde brow raised at Emily's silence. "Well?"

"Do I need a warrant?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do I need a warrant?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"Nothing, ma'am. I'm asking a simple question that requires a simple answer. Do I or do I not need a warrant?"

"Why are you even asking-"

"Then evidently you aren't too bothered by my uninvited presence."

Emily's tone was somewhat bored, yet still had a hint of respect, as she closed the door behind her and dared to step further into the room. A shiver ran down her spine as she practically closed herself into a room alone with the one woman she couldn't stand. There was still something about being in Strauss' presence that unnerved Emily; whether it was because of their history, or their differences, she didn't know.

Strauss seemed offended by the younger woman's remark, and she shot her a hard glare that could put Hotch to shame. There was a hint of a warning gleam in her eyes.

"Sometimes, I think it seems to escape your mind that you are talking to your superior...not your friend, Agent Prentiss."

"With all due respect, _ma'am_, I have plenty of friends, and I'm not here on sociable terms."

'_Or because I want to be_,' she added bitterly in her mind, before forcing herself to take another step further into the room as she clasped her hands respectfully behind her back and fell silent.

The atmosphere was thick between them, and the room seemed to darken to accompany their moods as dark brown eyes met piercing blue. Neither knew what to say: in truth, neither /wanted/ to say anything. There was an unspoken agreement of mutual dislike lingering in the air, but finally Emily spoke up to break the deafening silence.

"What's in the drawer, ma'am?"

Erin's features switched quickly from anger to shock, followed by brief confusion, before finally returning to anger.

No, anger was putting it lightly.

She was furious.

"I beg your pardon?"

That was another warning; a chance, perhaps, for Emily to change her question. But she didn't. Instead she repeated the same one, word for word, much more articulately with a warning of her own in her tone. A warning for Strauss not to attempt to lie to a trained profiler.

"What's in the drawer, ma'am?"

"This is ridiculous."

"Ma'am?"

"I'm your superior."

That was Erin's way of reminding herself not to be belittled; she felt caged and vulnerable, and the only thing she knew was to turn the tables on her offender.

"I'm afraid I must insist, ma'am."

"Enough!"

The woman's shriek was enough to stop the brunette in her tracks as she stepped closer to her desk, invading her boss' space.

"Leave. Now."

"Ma'am?" Emily question again innocently, but made no move to leave, nor did she advance on the other woman either. Instead, she stood rooted on the spot, standing her ground as she did what she did best: profiling. She assessed every detail off Strauss appearance and body language, paying particular attention to her nervous habits.

Emily was a nail biter when stressed, but over the years she had noticed that Strauss was a twitcher. The older woman's right eye twitched as Emily suspected it would, and her posture was rigid, arms folded across her chest as though physically trying to protect herself from Emily's accusations. Then she spoke, and although Emily had heard anger in her voice plenty of times in the past, she was actually taken aback by the utter venom in the woman's tone.

"Get out of my office. Who do you think you are to come in here and point fingers, agent? To probe in places that shouldn't be touched? To ask questions that are none of your business? Get OUT!"

Emily was slightly surprised by the sheer volume the frail looking woman omitted, but she stood her ground defiantly and have Strauss a hard glare.

"I think I am your agent and I am part of your team. And I think that I have every right to express concern when I feel one of my own is in need of help."

Spoken in the exact words Hotch would have used, she inwardly snorted. Yet her words were true. She didn't like the woman, she found it hard to tolerate her, she didn't trust her, she could never be her friend...but she could help her. She could devote time to her if need be, and she could guide her through what she needed to do to help herself. She was prepared for that.

As Hotch said: the team were family, and that included Strauss.

"Help? Help? I do not need help, agent. I am coping perfectly well where I am just now, and I don't need to be hand held through every hurdle. Perhaps you should focus on your own problems, Emily? Perhaps you and your team should focus on improving yourselves and correcting your errors rather than trying to save other people you cannot save."

Emily was convinced up until the last statement her boss made, and she knew at that moment that Strauss was silently pleading for her help. She may not have verbally said it, but her words hinted it and the helplessness in her eyes only confirmed it.

Strauss was a lost soul in need of help and guidance. Emily could, and would, give her that. No matter how hard she fought. This wasn't about her deal with Hotch anymore...this was personal. This was about a woman helping another woman, a colleague helping a colleague, through a more common than thought problem.

This was Emily helping Erin.

"Open the drawer. Please. If there's nothing but paperwork inside then I'll leave you alone...but if there's something else, I can help."

Strauss was torn. Torn between accepting the help, and getting the woman forcefully removed from her office before she hit breaking point. She never did cope with confrontations. She opened her mouth to speak, her bony yet sturdy fingers combing through her straw-like hair...but evidently, she didn't speak quickly enough for the impatient agent who had managed to make her way across the room before Strauss noticed.

"What are you-"

Emily yanked open the drawer, hearing the telltale clinking of bottles colliding together before she even saw them. Strauss let out a strangled cry of both anger and shock as she darted forward and rammed the drawer shut again, jamming Emily's fingers in the process.

It would have been comical if the situation wasn't so serious - two women fighting over opening a drawer and closing a drawer, cursing one another and fighting to get their own way. Strauss put up a good fight, but Emily was smarter and quicker, and managed to detangle the other woman away from herself and the desk to give her enough time to open the drawer and pull out a bottle.

And there it was. Red wine. Screaming pure evil right in front of her as Strauss moved forward to snatch it.

"You don't need this, ma'am."

Emily's tone was firm, yet softer, as she handed the woman her bottle. She had proven her point, therefore had no use in or no right to withhold her belongings from her. Strauss took the wine, cheeks flared red with pure fury as she practically snarled at the young agent.

"Get out! Out! I won't tell you again, Agent Prentiss. _OUT_!"

Emily couldn't take it anymore; she was witnessing one of the most toughest of women breaking right in front of her eyes, and all she could see was Hotch. Hotch begging her to help, Hotch speaking of this snake so passionately. Emily now knew why. Anyone with humanity in them would go through any lengths to help someone after witnessing them create such a desperate scene.

"Ma'am..."

"OUT!"

"Fine! I'm going!" She finally snapped, unaware of where this sudden burst of anger came from. She may want to help, but she wouldn't tolerate Strauss screaming in her face like she was.

Just as she suspected.

"Sort yourself out, Strauss. Before you endanger the BAU, yourself, and every on around you. You're on your own." Emily seethed, turning her back on the blonde mess and not once looking back as she stormed out of the office and slammed the door behind her. How could the woman be so blind? Emily knew enough about alcoholism to know it would be hard to get through to her, but her self-protectiveness was unwavering, and incredibly infuriating!

Strauss was indeed beyond help from any of them, and Emily refused to dedicate time to someone who threw it back in her face. She especially cursed Hotch for dragging her into this situation...but no doubt he would hear about this sooner or later.

And he wouldn't be happy.


	3. Chapter 3 - Sensitive Cases

**Hello, my dears. I have answered a couple of reviews at the bottom, so please take time to read them after you read this chapter so you understand why I write how I write. Thank you, I do hope you enjoy this chapter - it's rather short as the following one will be more dramatic and it will have a lot to fit in. This is merely introducing you to their current case. **

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"Care to tell me what the hell was going through your head, Prentiss? Didn't I make myself crystal clear when I told you that Erin doesn't react well to confrontation?"

Hotch was seething, and he didn't bother trying to control it from his agent who stood in front of his desk with a shameful flush on her face. Part of her did regret being so forward with Strauss, but another part of her would have done the same all over again if it meant getting through to the woman. Perhaps Hotch had a better understanding of alcoholism than Emily did...or perhaps, he merely had a better understanding of Strauss.

"Sir, I apologise, I should have asked you before visiting her, and I admit I could have handled it better...but Hotch, she was blatantly lying to me! I saw the bottles in her drawer-"

"You disrespected her personal space and you opened that drawer against her will, Prentiss! Not only is that unprofessional but it is also an infringement of her rights!"

He stood from his desk, knuckles planted on the surface as his face came close to hers, eyes dark with fury. He knew Emily was rash, and he knew she wouldn't be soft on Erin, but this was taking it too far.

"I built trust with her, dammit. Now we're back to square one purely because you can't control your temper."

"Square one? Hotch, what's the first sign of recovery?"

He fell silent, though Emily knew he had the answer on the tip of his tongue, so she answered for him.

"Admitting you have a problem and need help. Hotch, she still can't admit she has a problem...not even when I found the wine! We're not even at square one yet."

Emily was slowly but surely eating away at his last nerve, and he had to pinch the bridge of his nose to control his breathing before he verbally lashed out at her. Yes, he cared for Erin, and he wanted her to get the help she needed...but he build trust with the woman, and he knew that she had high hopes that he wouldn't bring anyone else into this.

"Prentiss...I need to know that you are on my side here. And being on my side means that you are on Erin's side too. I don't care if you resent her for what she did, I don't care if you don't understand why she does what she does, but I do care about you helping me help her realise she needs to get better. Alcoholism is a sensitive subject, Prentiss, and all dependent on the abuser. Some cave in when shouted at, some cave in when given the guilt trip. Strauss caves in to nothing and no one. That's why we need to build trust with her until she finally accepts our help."

This was infuriating to Emily; it almost felt as though Hotch was talking down to her...patronising her. She understood that he was angry and disappointed, but his slow and deliberate tone irked her.

"I'm on your team. Not for you, but for her. I want her to get better just as much as you do, but I don't know how to get through to her. She's an intelligent and strong woman, Hotch. She can't be tamed into submission."

Hotch was taken aback by the way in which Emily spoke about their section chief. He hadn't ever heard her compliment the woman, but it gave him hope. Hope in the fact that perhaps Emily, with her kindness and her passion, could get through to their troubled boss.

"Tomorrow, you and I will clear things up with her personally. You owe her an apology, Prentiss, so put your pride aside and prepare yourself. For now, we have a case."

As soon as he finished his sentence, JJ's head appeared from behind the door, a slightly apprehensive look on her face as she nodded towards both agents. "We have a case...well, kind of."

"What does that-"

Emily didn't get to finish her sentence, as JJ had disappeared once again and Hotch was soon following behind, holding the door open expectantly for Emily to pass first. He didn't seem at all phased by JJ's strange behaviour, which led Emily to believe that he already had an idea of what she was about to present to them. Emily breezed past her boss, pushing all thoughts of Erin Strauss out of her mind so she could get back into her profiling mode as she followed her team members sheepishly into the conference room.

"John Doe, mid thirties, caught fleeing a drunken hit and run scene in Quantico - not far from here, actually." JJ began, not noticing Hotch and Prentiss' slight winces. Drunk driver? How ironic. Strauss will love this case

"If he fled, why has be been pronounced 'John Doe'?" Morgan asked, thoroughly confused given the fact that their John Doe had always been a dead body in the past.

"Because he's unidentified." She simply replied, pulling up pictures of the hectic scene. "Now, this is a curious one. A privately hired car, through by an anonymous company, was recklessly steered into a crowd of innocents in the street. We can't track down John Doe by the car, as it was anonymously hired. No one saw him either, but witnesses claim to have seen a white man in his early thirties flee the scene. But they couldn't be sure..."

"There was bound to be a lot of people running. That car was about to blow..." Emily commented, still inwardly grimacing at how personal this case seemed.

But Morgan wasn't convinced.

"No deaths and no similar crashes we can link with this one. It was a singular accident due to driving under the influence - why are the BAU being called in to investigate it?"

"Because state police have reason to believe that this will happen again. Given the fact the driver fled once he realised no one was killed, this has been labelled either a mass hit and run or a suicide mission. You join that with the unsub's clever idea to hire an anonymous car, and I think it's very clear that this was intentional."

Hotch's words shut Morgan up - in fact, the entire team fell silent, their stomachs churning at the idea of a mass hit and run. JJ spoke up to break the silence, but her voice was quiet as she briefly went over what they knew.

"White male, thirties, most likely employed with good salary given the fact anonymous hires are extortionate. He probably seems like your average business man. There is actually no evidence supporting the theory that the driver was under the influence, but given the public's anger towards the situation, police have smoothed it down into that so not to raise panic. Let's keep it that way."

The team nodded, but Emily and Hotch avoided one another's eyes as everyone stood and began to file out of the room to get to work. No doubt Strauss would soon be more on edge with a supposed "drunk driver" loose. Emily couldn't tell whether the other woman would be more passionate about finding this particular UNSUB, or she would feel more victimised given her own current situation.

"Prentiss, a word?"

She could have groaned out loud if she was bold enough. But she wasn't, and she was in no place to irritate her boss further, so she simply nodded and followed Hotch back into his office.

"We need to keep this entire Erin situation on low key, Prentiss. I mean...between us. No one else can know. Especially not now, this case will be personal to Erin, and no doubt she'll bring that up to us when we visit her."

"We're visiting her?"

"Yes. Now, actually."

"Seriously?"

"Prentiss..."

"Fine. But you can do the talking."

With that, she left his office, deciding not to hold the door open for him as he cleared up his things. Yet again she would have to face this infuriating person. Yet again, Emily Prentiss would have to feel like she was failing in helping someone.

**I would like to respond to hurricanehorse.**

** I refer to her as an "older" woman. She is older than Emily, that's what I mean when I say that. However, I'll hold back from saying it, as I know it's infuriating to read a fanfic when you have a pet hate included in it constantly. **

**I also think Jayne Atkinson is a very beautiful woman, but I'm more referring to the character of Strauss. The alcoholism ruining her body, making her slimmer, the lack of care in her appearance. I assure you, this isn't targeted at the attractive Jayne Atkinson, this is more my personal vision of how alcohol can deteriorate a beautiful appearance. I have seen it personally. Strauss also happens to be my favourite character as she opened my eyes to things I was once blind towards...for personal reasons. I respect her character, but I'm trying to make the alcoholism realistic. During her battle with the alcohol, I doubt she was glamorous. I hope that further into the story my dedication and understanding towards her character will be more clear...I apologise that this offended you**. **But** **thank you so much, I am thrilled you are enjoying it. :-)**


	4. Chapter 4 - Help Without Humiliation

**I would like to begin with saying that I am thrilled with my feedback! To those of you who relate to Erin's story, I am glad I'm not the only one and I hope you continue to find strength in whatever battle you are fighting. This chapter focuses on Erin coming to terms with her problem and accepting help...well, in her own way.**

**Thank you all who are following and enjoying this story - it has a lot of drama/twists coming up, and the Hotchniss storyline will also soon come into play!**

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Erin was already beginning to regret her agreement to attend this meeting with her agents. She knew exactly what it would involve, and she wasn't sure she was prepared for the onslaught of accusations and patronising pleas of "let us help you".

Help her. The thought made her snort. They were practically children in her eyes, and imperfect ones at that. One had suffered a disastrous marriage and failed to be there for his son while the other couldn't even get herself into a relationship. Who were they to judge her?

But of course, Erin didn't actually think such things of Emily and Aaron. In truth, she respected them both and saw success in them where they saw failure. She saw two admirable people dedicating their life to doing what was right, and bringing justice to what was wrong. In a way, that was ironic: in this instance, when it came to their involvement in her life, they were also doing their job. They were doing what was right, and while Erin knew this, she couldn't help but detest the fact that she was merely another problem to solve.

No, they didn't think that of her. She told herself this repeatedly so not to become more angry with them over reasons she couldn't even prove were correct. So instead of building theories and dreading their presence, the woman waited patiently at her desk for her agents to appear.

And they did. Not a minute too early or too late.

"Agents." She acknowledged as Hotch came through first, with Prentiss slipping in behind him with a rather dubious look on her face which piqued Erin's curiosity. She expected the brass woman to come barging in again, that same air of confidence about her as she had merely hours earlier when she helped herself into the section chief's room. But Emily seemed to be more hesitant now; Erin wondered whether that was due to feeling remorseful of her earlier actions, or out of submission to the ever so demanding Aaron. Perhaps he was the reason Emily was more timid...perhaps he had thoroughly chastised her for earlier, and now the brunette had learned her lesson.

"Ma'am." Aaron spoke first, well, he was the only one who spoke, as Emily seemed determined to keep her earlier promise of letting him talk. "I hope you are we-"

"Let's not beat around the bush, Agent Hotchner." She spoke sharply, lips barely even moving as the words escaped her mouth. "I believe we are all here for the same reason: to clear up a slight misunderstanding."

"Yes, I believe so." He began, indicating for Emily to close the door behind her as he moved to sit on the chair opposite the woman's desk. "Are you comfortable with Agent Prentiss joining us or would you rather speak to me alone first?"

"I have no reason to send her away. As I said - we are all here for the same reason."

It angered Emily that both parties were speaking about her as though she wasn't in the room, but she kept her tongue on leash and made her way to the desk with deliberate slowness. Next would come her apology; she wouldn't get away with avoiding it...Hotch was already watching her with an expectant stare.

"I would like to apologise for my behaviour earlier, ma'am." This time, she wasn't sarcastic when addressing the woman. "There is no excuse for it, really, but all I can say is that I allowed my emotions to get the better of me, and I am aware that I spoke out of turn. I just hope you can forgive me."

Erin seemed very reluctant to forgive the younger woman at all, but Aaron was watching them both with such intensity that she knew none of them were leaving that room without some kind of peace or agreement between them.

"I forgive you, agent, but I cannot tolerate such behaviour again. This goes for both of you." She turned towards Aaron, her tone crisp and her eyes hard. "I do not want to see you both involving yourself in my personal life ever again. I do not need help, nor do I need time off. What I need is reassurance that the BAU are unparalleled in their work and are focusing on their _job_."

Emily looked like she could have screamed at the woman there and then. She looked simply livid, but she nodded tightly in response before she said yet another thing she would regret. They were getting nowhere: Strauss seemed to be pushing them further and further away.

"Now, talking about the job - may I ask why on earth the BAU are working on a hit and run case? That isn't our field. I do not understand why we are wasting our time on something so insignificant when we have serial killers to pin down."

There it was. Just as Hotch suspected. Strauss had taken offence to their current case, and was now questioning their work on it. Naturally, she must have felt slightly victimised, what with her situation so conveniently clashing with the case. Hotch didn't blame her.

"We have reason to believe that this isn't any ordinary hit and run case, but something that could occur more than once if we don't act now." Emily attempted to explain, finally engaging in the conversation to take the spotlight off of Hotch for a moment.

"Based on what evidence?"

"The fact that John Doe fled the scene is enough to insinuate that this wasn't accidental."

"Therefore this opinion is based on theory?" Erin's brow climbed higher.

"...somewhat." Emily admitted sheepishly after a long pause.

"Can we really afford to neglect important cases with hard evidence purely to investigate on a theory, Agent Hotchner?" She directed this to the man in front of her, now blanking Emily as her eyes focused intently on the unit chief.

"We have little choice, Erin. The government and local Feds have called us in already and demand our cooperation."

"I'll deal with that."

"Good luck." Emily shot back before Hotch could reply, her impatience yet again getting the better of her. Hotch shot her a silencing glare, but she ignored it in favour of staring intently at the woman across the desk, who stared back just as icily. "I was under the impression that we were to focus on our job, ma'am? You seem to be swaying from your own advice purely because this case just so happens to be personal to you. Mixing cases with our personal lives is something you normally berate us on."

"Your assumption that I'm impartial to this case for personal reasons is humourlessly incorrect, Agent." Erin began, her voice strained and her eyes flickering furiously. "I merely see no merit in chasing a man with no name for weeks when we could be out there stopping real serial killers."

Strauss had a point, and Emily actually agreed with her; she too, struggled to see why the BAU were working on such case when there were, God forgive her for saying it, more important things to focus on. But despite the fact she wholeheartedly agreed with her section chief's beliefs, Emily would never admit it, therefore defended the case and its cause.

"So we let this man go free? Then a few weeks down the line we hear news of a mass hit and run, and news of dozens of dead innocents, and yet again, a missing John Doe. All because we focused on another case and branded this one as unimportant. We can't take that risk, Str- ma'am." Emily argued, her cheeks flushing with anger as she rose from her chair and excused herself for a moment.

Before either section or unit chief could say anything, Emily disappeared from the room, closing the door with a subtle slam.

"I trusted you." Were the first words to leave Erin Strauss' lips the moment they were alone. Hotch felt his chest tightening, mostly with guilt, and he couldn't look the woman in the eyes. "I told you I was getting help and still, you insisted on humiliating me." The betrayal and hurt was evident in the woman's tone.

"We can trust her. I feel she is the best person for this, Erin, or I wouldn't have told her at all. I know she can help...both of you just need to get past this protective wall blocking your potential friendship." Hotch spoke softly, almost fondly, as his fingertips traced his lips thoughtfully.

It was true. He knew how passionately Emily fought for what she believed in. He knew how unbiased Emily was, and how she had an admirable ability to see past flaws and dig out beauty. He knew that deep down, Emily respected Strauss, and that only she had the ability to get through to the woman. He just knew it. Five years of knowing the woman taught him that.

"Her methods of building friendship are unlike anything I have seen before." Erin snorted disdainfully, but seemed to consider her questions. She knew, behind then stubbornness and defiance, that she had a problem and needed help with it. It embarrassed her, yet still she knew she couldn't fight this battle on her own much longer.

The alcohol was slowly _becoming_ her.

"She is passionate." He counter argued, though made it sound like an agreement to her statement. His lips almost curled into a smile; there was a connection between these women that neither of them had noticed. But he noticed it.

"She abhors me."

"I abhor no one." Emily's voice suddenly filled the room, causing both occupants to turn immediately. She had a bottle of water in one hand, and was cracking open the lid with the other as she closed the door behind her with the heel of her foot. "And I don't tend to offer my help in situations I don't want to help with."

Strauss tensed. Exactly how long had Emily been there? How much had she heard? The woman suddenly felt queasy, and that water looked like it would come in handy. "May I?" She enquired, almost timidly, plucking a plastic cup from her drawer and holding it out to the agent.

Emily didn't hesitate. She took Erin's cup and poured a generous amount of water into it, almost filling it to the top, without so much as an argument or question. That both pleased and unnerved Strauss.

"Denise Sutherland." Emily simply stated, much to Hotch and Strauss' confusion, as she handed the other woman the now filled cup of water.

"I'm sorry?"

"My friend. She lost her partner when we were thirty two. They were engaged, actually - to be married that month. But he died...so sudden. _Too_ sudden."

Hotch knew where this was going, and remained quiet as Emily sat back down beside him with a shaky sigh before she plundered on.

"She didn't cope well with the loss, never did cope well with that kind of stuff, actually...and she..." Emily swallowed, and again, Erin tensed. "She took to drinking. It was horrible, watching someone you care about turn into someone completely foreign to you before your very eyes. Watching a kind nature turn into a mean spirit, and optimism turn to pessimism, and independence turning to dependence on alcohol. I wanted to help her, God I really did, but I didn't know what to do."

Strauss listened intently, occasionally bringing the water to her lips and gulping it down in order to moisten her suddenly dry throat. The story hit home, and unexpectedly, she never lashed out at the woman for speaking of the sensitive issue. Instead, she merely listened, matching the similarities in the story to the events in her own life.

"She let it consume her. She lost her job, her friends, her family, her house, her dignity. She lost everything. I watched it all happen...and I did nothing about it."

"It isn't your job to help someone out of a situation only they can control." Hotch pointed out, which Erin took as a personal dig.

"Isn't it? Isn't that what we do every day?" She asked, avoiding his eyes and opting instead to keep her own transfixed on the blue irises of Erin Strauss.

"Your job, Agent Prentiss, does not define you as a person. Here, at work, you use your personal skills and knowledge of people to make a difference. At home, you are supposed to be yourself, which I would hope isn't that same woman. Which, I would hope, is a woman who focuses more on herself than others, no matter how accustomed she has become of selflessness."

Surprisingly, those words came from Erin's mouth and not Hotch's, and once again all three fell into awkward silence. Her eyes hadn't let go of Emily's gaze, and her hands trembled around the plastic cup she was clutching at so desperately, as though hoping it would rid her from her nerves.

"Ma'am, the minute I leave this building I become Emily. Just Emily. But this job is part of who I am, and selflessness seems to be a hobby I practice regularly," she mused lightheartedly. "But my team are also part of me. In work, or out of work, I'll dedicate all my time to helping them if they ever need me to. That's just how the BAU function, ma'am. That's how I function."

Again, that same lengthy silence, yet this time it was more calming than awkward. All three seemed to relax, as though a heavy weight had already been lifted from their shoulders. Finally, Erin spoke, once again adopting her infamous icy tone.

"I will not be patronised, ordered around, or under surveillance. I understand that you wish to help me, but again, I do not feel I need help. I had a slip up and I went though a phase - while support is appreciated, counselling is not. I expect never to see you both unless I ask of it, or unless absolutely necessary. Do I make myself clear?"

Both agents nodded, picking up on the subtext behind the self-protecting words. She wanted help, but only when necessary. Only when she needed saving. Both Aaron and Emily accepted that without faltering.

"You know where to find us, Erin." Aaron spoke, now rising to his feet and smoothing down his suit with an almost inaudible cough to clear his throat. Emily also stood, choosing to say nothing, but placing the bottle of water on the desk by Strauss' now empty cup, before nodding respectfully. She allowed Aaron to steer her away with one comforting hand on her elbow.

After her agents left her alone with her own thoughts, Erin's eyes fluttered closed and she let out a long, much needed sigh as her fingers played gingerly with the handle of the middle drawer. There was nothing there, yet still she always took comfort in that one drawer.

"It's over."

She breathed out to the empty room, the dim light of the desk lamp illuminating her graceful features. She was well aware that she had been slipping up lately, but she felt in control. If it wasn't for that one, huge guilty conscience that burned a black hole in her heart, then Erin would be able to move on completely.

Little did she, or her agents know, that their troubles were only just beginning.


	5. Chapter 5 - When Strength May Crack

**Hello there, readers. This chapter is purely Strauss/Hotch, to emphasise on the reason and emotion behind Hotch's motives, and to show the rapid degradation of Strauss. ****This chapter contains spoilers for season seven. ****The conflict between Hotch and Morgan is extracted from the episode "Self Fulfilling Prophecy" (s7 ep9) itself, therefore if you haven't seen it and are planning to, you may wish to skip the Morgan/Hotch part. **

**Thank you for all the wonderful feedback - ideas and opinions are also greatly valued! **

BAUBAUBAUBAUBAU

When Hotch confronted Strauss of her drinking problem, he expected the worst. He expected angry words to be hurled, defensive walls to be built, and dramatic actions to unfold. What he didn't expect, was for that evening to end with his arms full of a weeping, exhausted and very much broken Erin Strauss.

It all started when Erin decided to accompany the BAU to Florida to investigate a particularly perplexing case classed as a mass suicide. It wasn't until the team arrived at the military campus, and introduced themselves to Colonel Massey, when Hotch realise that something about Erin was...off, to say the least.

The ever so calm and collected chief seemed more on edge, which unnerved Hotch and attracted attention from the rest of the team - specifically Morgan. Her mood swings became intolerable: one day, she was defending the colonel when he was branded a suspect, and the next she was demanding answers from him in a highly unprofessional manner. It was unlike her to jeopardise a case, and he instantly knew what was going on: Strauss' drinking problem had returned.

Yes, he knew it was a previous problem, but she reassured him that she was getting help. Upon her return months prior to the Florida case, Hotch naturally assumed she was better, but he was beginning to realise he was wrong.

The worst of Strauss' alcoholism was only just beginning.

**[Flashback: six months earlier prior to current time]**

_"Hotch. She's drinking." _

_Morgan's words jolted Hotch from his obliviousness, and suddenly everything became clearer in his swamped mind. Of course! What else could it be? Why else would Erin be acting so out of sorts and out of profession? Why didn't he see it sooner? _

_"Strauss?" He questioned, though he knew the answer. _

_"Yeah." Morgan replied sharply, as though it should have been painfully obvious. "She needs help, man. She could blow this case."_

_Hotch grimaced. "What happened?"_

_"She laid into Massey. She actually said the kinda things I would have said," at this, he seemed momentarily impressed, before he added, "and for a minute, I was like, okay...good. She's finally on our side." Then he paused, shifting onto one foot and gritting his teeth furiously before grounding out, "But then I smelled it, Hotch." Morgan paused yet again, his eyes darkening as he stepped closer to the older and taller man, the accusing anger present in his tone. "I asked you if something was going on. You __**partnered**__ me with her-"_

_"Morgan, she was getting help." Hotch stated, his mind already consumed by their current case, let alone Strauss' recurring problem. "I'm going to have to call the APE. But this is not ab-"_

_"Wait, wait, wait...this is not about me? Is that what you're gonna say?" Morgan challenged, his entire body tense as he stepped even closer. "You know how many times I've heard that, Hotch? Well I am __**tired **__of it. You keep telling me that I have problems trusting people, but from where I'm standing, you're the one who can't trust anyone with anything." _

_Hotch said nothing else - he couldn't, in truth, as he was as confused as the other man - and he watched with a heavy heart as Morgan quickly disappeared from his sight. Quite frankly, he couldn't blame the other agent for his anger, but at the same time, he didn't have time to nurse the team each time an upsetting issue sprouted up within the BAU. Besides, it was Hotch who was dealing with the bulk of Strauss' problem. It was Hotch who found out before anyone else did. It was Hotch who vowed he would help her, thus keeping secrets from his team. _

_It was also Hotch who turned up at her hotel room door that night, deciding that enough was enough and he was going to inform the woman that she had to withdraw from participating in the case immediately, effectively putting an end to her entire interaction with the team. That was, until the door opened to reveal, well, a woman who wasn't quite Erin Strauss. _

_The woman who opened the door seemed small, frail and vulnerable. Dressed in simple yet comfortable pyjamas that were half concealed by a fluffy white dressing gown, his section chief seemed like an entirely different person when her tired eyes met his. She wasn't drunk, that much he could tell immediately, but she was partly intoxicated - tipsy, you could say. Her blue eyes were clouded over, and she had a slight sway in her gait as she stepped back and allowed him entry without so much as a word of question or argument._

_It was as though she knew she had crossed the line, and was now ready to accept his scolding._

_"Erin..."_

_"I'm sorry." There was nothing defiant or scornful in the way she said it. If anything, she seemed genuinely sorry for her actions, and for being in such a state in his presence. _

_Aaron's intentions seemed to change at that moment: he wasn't there to banish her or send her home...he was there to help and support her. _

_"We need to get you proper help, Erin." He began, closing the door with uncommon gentleness as he stepped further into the room with the woman. She did not argue as he expected her to, but instead she nodded, standing sheepishly in front of him as though expecting him to pluck her from her room and send her away at that very moment. But of course, that wasn't his intention. _

_"Talk to me." It wasn't a command, despite how strongly the man's voice normally screamed dominance, but it was more of a question. He was giving her the option; he was letting her know that he was there should she need to talk to someone about the darkness she felt consumed by. _

_"I am sorry." She repeated, wrapping the dressing gown tighter around her frame when Aaron's eyes landed on the numerous bottles of wine by her bedside. "I don't want to lose my job...it's all I have..." She suddenly wailed quietly, more to herself, as she staggered away from the door and carelessly dropped down onto the edge of the double bed. She looked so broken, so vulnerable..._

_"You won't. Not if you accept that you need help." Hotch spoke softly, attempting to reassure the woman despite the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. He was always used to seeing her so cold, so distant...so strong. This side of Erin Strauss was foreign to him, and quite frankly, he didn't know how to deal with it. "Let me help you, Erin. Let me help you get the proper help you need, so that this time, you won't relapse."_

_"I'll do anything to earn my children's love again..." She muttered, wringing her hands together on her lap as her watery blue eyes met his with a grief in their depths that took him by surprise. No one ever though of Strauss' personal life. The BAU were so tightly knitted together, and knew almost all of each other's secrets...but it finally struck him: none of them knew anything about Erin. Why? Because none of them tried to. _

_"Your children are your children, and they will always love you." _

_'Hypocrite', he mentally chastised himself. Who was he to quote such a thing when he himself struggled to believe it? Finally, he left his place at the door and moved towards the bed before hesitantly sitting next to her, slowly, lest he unsettle her. She didn't seem upset by it, if anything, he was certain he could almost feel her lean into him for support...but that could have been the alcohol messing with her coordination. _

_"I want to escape from all this, Aaron. I really do..." Her voice was strained, and her sorrow was evident in it. He was truly stumped by the sheer emotion and grief that this woman had been silently suffering for so long. "I love my children. I miss them." She let out a choked sob, her body slumping against his side as he finally brought an arm around her shoulder. _

_Nothing about it felt awkward, or disturbing. For a moment, he regarded Erin as a friend in need of comfort, and Aaron was more than happy to take on that role. "Then do this for them. They need, and deserve, to have their mother back. All you have to do is let us help - we can do it discreetly, Erin. You don't have to be afraid of losing everything." _

_The woman was I convinced, and conveyed this by furiously shaking her head against his shoulder as she attempted to relax in his hesitant embrace. It felt nice...to have someone to lean on. Someone to see you at your worst, and offer comfort instead of judgment. _

_"I-I don't want...I don't, want the team, knowing..." She gasped out, her breathing erratic as each strangled sob left her mouth while she tried to speak. She felt, and no doubt looked, like a baby as she rested her head on his shoulder, her hands resting limply on her lap as she put her entire trust in him to hold her up. Too intoxicated to form a coherent sentence, the woman merely slurred simple sentences in embarrassment as Hotch listened tentatively._

_"M-y...mine. It wasn't." She began, fat tears rolling down her now sunken cheeks. The alcohol had almost ruined this woman's elegance, and it only became more clearer to Hotch as the gentle light from the bedside lamp illuminated her altered features. Erin was never an ugly woman; in fact, Aaron always believed she was a fine looking lady in the most proper and elegant manner. She knew how to dress well, and to carry herself well...this sudden change in her unsettled the man. He wasn't used to this Erin...he was used to his section chief, Strauss. _

_Erin was no longer only consuming alcohol...but alcohol was also consuming her. _

_"I wa-sn't. It was...me. I tried. It's all my fault...I tried. I didn't..." She was making no sense even to her own mind now, so she simply gave up on speech and allowed her exhaustion to overtake her. Hotch assumed he knew what she was trying to say to him: that she tried to help herself, but wasn't strong enough. It was her fault she only seemed to be getting worse. _

_The normally unemotional agent allowed Erin to sleep in his arms, propped against his shoulder with her head lolling around as she murmured in her sleep. He recalled the time she admitted to having nightmares, and now he wondered if the alcohol only worsened that. For several minutes, he simply sat with his arm around her shoulder and his free hand rubbing her hand soothingly, even though she could no longer feel it. Not many knew of, let alone experienced Hotch's gentle side. _

_Finally he eased her back onto the bed, resting her head on the pillow and ensuring that her hair was safely away from her face and neck - just in case. This sudden surge of protectiveness over this woman frightened him, but he decided to just go along with it. Once she was comfortably under the covers, and Hotch had removed all bottles from her reach, he lingered by the door for a moment too long, the sound of her heavy breathing and intelligible murmuring the only sound to be heard as he watched her. _

_She looked peaceful...so peaceful it disturbed him. It was almost as though Strauss' time awake was so darkened by her own mind, that the only time she managed to be at peace, was when she was asleep and blissfully unaware. _

_"Goodnight, Erin." He murmured to her sleeping form, his words hushing her mutters as she rolled onto her side, her back turned to him. He could no longer see her face, yet he knew it most likely held that same peaceful expression. Her mouth wouldn't frown, her brow wouldn't furrow, and her nostrils wouldn't flare. She had finally relaxed. _

_With that thought, he silently left her room, closing the door soundly behind him with empty alcohol bottles in tow. _

[End flashback - back to current day]

He left Strauss' hotel room that day with a vow that he would help her find peace in her wake as well as her sleep. That he would help Erin Strauss be happy again.

Because who didn't deserve happiness?

"Prentiss." Were the next words to leave his thin lips as he rattled on the woman's office door, his features contorted into a strange array of emotions: irritation, anger, fear, desperation and even...a slight, unlikely reliance on his agent.


	6. Chapter 6 - Between Cases and Coffee

_Hello, faithful readers. I apologise this chapter took so long, both writers have been suffering from writer's block. This chapter was not written by me, but my co-writer, however the rest of this fanfiction will be solo-written by myself.  
Having said that, I feel I have lacked in showing the Hotchniss side of this story (and what I have written on them is slightly bland). I would really appreciate some in depth feedback. I already know where this story is going, but I am unsure of whether my readers want more Hotchniss or more Strauss...so please, by all means, criticise and offer suggestions! I value the opinion of my readers.  
~ C _

**BAUBAUBAUBAU**

"Hotch, we need to focus on the case more than Strauss right now. Everyone's getting suspicious." Emily argued her point for what felt like the hundredth time since he visited her. Perched on the edge of the desk, she watched as her boss paced nauseatingly from one end of the room to the other, scratching his now stubbled cheek.

Something Emily picked up on over her years of working with Hotch, was that his lack of facial hair maintenance was a sign that he was stressed.

"I understand, Prentiss. But I feel we're getting nowhere with both this case, and with Strauss."

She had to agree with that: the team had been working on the John Doe crash for about two weeks now, and were no closer to identifying their driver than they were when the case came to their attention. No new leads came to them, no more evidence was found, no more witnesses came forward...they didn't even have enough information to give a plausible profile (which was due five days prior to their conversation). Male, thirties, possible drink dependency and/or suicidal, with a side of 'possible mass murderer'.

As for Strauss...she may have agreed to their help in a somewhat reluctant and ambiguous manner, but she hadn't come near them since their agreement. They couldn't even tell whether she was drinking or not, as every time either one of them turned up at her office, she was oh so conveniently 'out for lunch' or had 'left early to work from home'. Her discreet attempts at avoiding them were becoming tiresome and frustrating, which only added to their unshakable irritation with their current case.

"Hotch, JJ asked me the other day whether I was /friends/ with Strauss. /Friends/. Our frequent visits are becoming more noticeable than we anticipated, and sooner or later, this mission of yours will be out in the open and we will be busted." She spoke sharply, though still had that same respectful tone as she always did when talking, even arguing, with him. "Would it really be such a bad thing to let the team in on what we're doing? To get extra help?" She asked, her tone voice now softer as she attempted to reason with the man she now regarded as, well, a friend. They had, inevitably, become much closer given their now daily interaction outside work as well as in (with outside of work being in regards to Strauss), and a mutual friendship seemed to be sprouting between them.

For instance, Emily took to buying him coffee in the mornings when she stopped by to get herself one, and in return he would offer her a dimpled smile, which was rare but captivating. Well, captivating to Emily; she told herself that the reason for this was purely because seeing her boss smile was so foreign. Anyone would be bewitched by that, right?

But Hotch wasn't smiling at that moment. No, this entire situation with his boss forced a seemingly unshiftable weight upon his shoulders, and Emily found that not even her coffee could cause that smile to grace his lips anymore.

"We promised Erin that we wouldn't spread this around, therefore the answer to your question is no. Besides, despite my unwavering trust in our team, some are just as dedicated to protocol as she is. The more sensible members will want to report her, and we can't have that happen." Hotch informed her coolly, his abrupt tone implying that nothing she could say would change his mind.

"Fine."

That one word was a harder slap in the face than any other phrase she could have said. In fact, Emily could have verbally abused her boss at that moment, and not even that could sting harder than that one simple word. Hotch knew, as most men did, that the word 'fine' implied that things certainly were not fine...if anything, things were far from fine.

"Prentiss -"

"I don't want to talk about it, Hotch. I get it." She cut him off, dark eyes ablaze with fury as she distracted herself by fumbling through the copious number of files in her arms. "The case," She reminded him, planting a thin case file onto the desk in front of him. "Nothing has happened since the John Doe incident, Hotch. We have no new leads, no cases to link it with, not even a suspect. We're taking too long on this one, and we're wasting our time on something idle when we could be focusing on something-"

"More important?"

"That's not wha-"

"That is what you meant, Prentiss. And while I agree to some extent, this case has been brought to us by authorities therefore we cannot turn it away or dismiss it until we solve it."

"Then give me something, Hotch. Anything to go by. Tell me what you're thinking."

"He has a family."

Emily almost snorted. "There are a lot of family guys out there, Hotch. We can't give a profile stating 'he has a family'."

"He's proud...most likely has a high reputation and that's why he fled the scene - because if he was caught, his image would be tarnished."

"Why rent a car anonymously?"

Now Hotch fell silent, no more suggestions tumbling so easily from his thin lips as he bowed his head. "I don't know. That's the missing link."

Emily herself couldn't quite piece that together in her mind: why would someone of such high influence rent a car if they already had one of their own, which they no doubt did? It didn't make sense, and it was this one piece of information that seemed to flummox the entire team.

"I think...our UNSUB didn't want their identity exploited. I think that they were indeed up to something - something they didn't want anyone finding out about...but I do not think that something was a mass suicide." Hotch finally admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose in evident frustration. He was dedicated to this job, and the people he worked with, but recently he found that every case seemed to become more complicated than the last.

He had to admit, there was one positive that came out of the entire situation: he found his relationship with Emily had flourished, and he felt much closer to her now than ever before. She had always been, as most of the team were, his subordinate, but now he considered her a friend.

A partner.

Said partner was now nodding in agreement with his brief profile, her arms folded across her chest, teeth sinking into her lower lip, and brows furrowed in deep thought. He could practically see the cogs turning in her head - Prentiss was still trying her hardest to prove herself in the bureau. Little did she know, she was more to him than part of the team now.

"Let's speak to some eye witnesses...I know there aren't many that came forward, but that place was mobbed, Hotch. Surely someone saw something. Maybe we should try some cognitive interviews." She pleaded, throwing her hands up in exasperation as she jumped down from his desk, boots planting themselves firmly on the ground.

Emily despised cognitive interviews. She told him herself back when she first started: in her opinion, they were traumatising and unnecessary. So Aaron knew the woman was clutching at straws now if she was suggesting putting people through them.

"Alright..." He began hesitantly, scratching the back of his neck and inhaling sharply as she passed. "Alright," he repeated, gathering his thoughts together once again before speaking up. "We can start with the witnesses who have already been interviewed, and hope that they recognised other people in the area at the time who haven't come forward."

The brunette agent nodded somewhat grimly. Her stress had doubled recently; between Strauss, John Doe, and even this sudden connection with Hotch, Emily Prentiss, for the first time, found herself truly and utterly stumped.

"Coffee on the way?"

Of course Hotch would offer her something so irresistible when she was trying her utmost hardest to distract herself from him. She nodded, scolding herself immediately when a small grin threatened to creep its way onto her lips as her boss brushed past. He frustrated her, challenged her, flattered her, protected her, encouraged her and irritated her all at the same time. He was, as JJ once stated, a bully - an arrogant, dominant, yet damn desirable bully. Why was she thinking this way? Since when did Emily decide it was safe to overstep the sacred line between subordinate and lover?

Now, it seemed.


End file.
